


Gone

by krazykitkat



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazykitkat/pseuds/krazykitkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She will be gone long before she leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE: Gone  
> AUTHOR: Kat/krazykitkat  
> RATING: PG  
> DISCLAIMER: The West Wing and its characters are the property of Aaron Sorkin, Warner Brothers, and NBC. No Copyright Infringement is intended. I will put them back slightly disheveled.  
> THANKS: To Angie and Pene (from so long ago she may not remember).  
> DEDICATION: Merry Christmas to Luna.  
> Written 2005.

She will be gone long before she leaves.

And as with your marriage, you won’t realize it’s the end until it’s over.

You won’t know when she insists on darkness and doesn’t groan your name as she arches above you. Or when she silences your words with rough kisses and uses her extra inches to shove you against your hallway wall.

You won’t know in the hazy dawn, as you search for warm skin even while expecting her absence. You won’t know as you enter the West Wing.

The first inkling will come with your discovery of the envelope marked with your full name in the middle of your desk.

Like your wife, she will leave you a note. They both believe that the written word is the only way to reach you.

Every pen stroke will slice through a thread connecting you.

"Toby? You seen CJ this morning?"

You will glance between Josh in your doorway and the note in your hand.

"Toby?"

"She's gone."

"To get coffee?"

You won’t reply as you push past him, needing more than her words. The empty goldfish bowl on the corner of her desk will be the final cut.

Her letter will be scrunched in your fist and you will smooth the paper out on her desk, pausing over her final two words.

‘I’m relieved.’

And you will wonder how you can be trusted to hold the world together when you didn’t notice her dissipating into white noise in front of you.


End file.
